


"but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not"

by fastwithspirit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Artist Harry Potter, Gen, Slice of Life, Squib Harry Potter, They're all queer! Fight me!, Tired with a capital T Dumbledore, queer harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 08:49:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12229578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fastwithspirit/pseuds/fastwithspirit
Summary: Petunia Dursley lives the first twelve months after her sisters death on edge. Any moment her freakish nephew could display some of his unnaturalness and she would have to explain what her sister is- was, to her beloved husband. Shattering the carefully constructed normality she has built for herself after her parents deaths.Two years pass and Petunia’s chilly exterior thaws, allowing warmth to seep into her heart. Maybe he's not like them, maybe he's normal.





	"but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not"

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is the pilot chapter, If it gets enough attention I'll write the rest and upload on a regular schedule.  
> pls note this is not beta read, if anyone wants to, let me know :)

Petunia Dursley lives the first twelve months after her sister's death on edge. Any moment her freakish nephew could display some of his unnaturalness and she would have to explain what her sister is- was, to her beloved husband. Shattering the carefully constructed normality she has built for herself after her parents deaths.

Two years pass and Petunia’s chilly exterior thaws, allowing warmth to seep into her heart. Maybe he's not like them, maybe he's normal.  
As she’s contemplating her nephew’s lack of freakish abilities, a cry comes from the other room here she left Dudley and Harry to play.

Rounding the corner into the lounge she quickly assesses what has happened. Dudley is sitting, little pudgy arms crossed as fat tears ran down his face, bottom lip wobbling. Harry is huddled in the corner of the room, face buried in his knees, making himself as small as possible as he clearly hold back sobs.

A brief though crosses Petunia’s mind as she see’s the toys scattered across the room, the troll doll grasped in Dudley's fist tightly, realising the likely situation as Dudley turns to her. For one moment she contemplates the possibility that she widens the divide she can already see forming between her son and nephew, ensuring that Dudley never feels the ache of normalcy, never has to shroud himself in it, make it his armor. The bitter pain of being ordinary, average, while your sibling drifts further into an amazing and dangerous world of magic.

It would be so easy. 

But then she sees the shaking little shoulders of her nephew, his barely suppressed sobs. In that moment she makes her decision. This boy deserves none of her bitterness. It was time to grow up. Be the adult.

She looks at Dudley, her beautiful boy, she didn't want him becoming like his father. No care for morality or empathy.  
“Dudley” he looks at her, crocodile tears ramping up to full volume  
“Come with me” she holds out her hand and leads him upstairs to his room. Sitting him next to his toy box she gives him a stern look, probably for the first time in his short life.  
“Muuuummm” he whinges, not knowing this expression.  
“Tah” Petunia hold out her hand, asking for the toy. He frowns but gives it to her with little fussing, quickly shifting his attention to the box full to toys in the corner.  
She leaves then for Harry, thinking of what to say to him now that she’d made up her mind. It was like a weight had slipped off her shoulders, letting little Harry into the small family she had built herself.

“Harry?” she questioned, walking carefully into the lounge.  
A small figure was still huddled in the corner next to the china cabinet.  
She goes to him then, placing a gentle hand on his knee, seeing his reaction. Touch starved, he leans in, not yet weary of his relatives. Petunia lifts up his chin, wiping his eyes with a tissue.  
He looks at her, lip quivering more fiercely than ever 

“Want mum”  
With those words petunia sits heavily on the carpet, pulling his small form into his arms.  
“I know” she mumbles, finally letting the weight of her sister's death pour from the little box she had kept it in for the past two years. She sobs along with her nephew, his tiny hands clutching at her back as he cries into her blouse.  
Dudley watches this, army man held loosely in his hand. He doesn't quite understand what's happening, but something tells him not to interrupt.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a bit of the first bit, I just wanted to get this out there.  
> I will be updating this chapter with more so check back in like a week.  
> ~Thanks


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